


listing things that hurt (and things that don't)

by Cat__nevermind



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bittersweet, Euphemia Potter is a Saint, F/M, First War with Voldemort, Found Family, Hurt Sirius Black, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internal Conflict, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Mild Sexual Content, Opening Up, POV Sirius Black, Past Child Abuse, Peter is the Secret Keeper, Poverty, Regulus Black Deserves Better, Remus Lupin being incredible, Sexuality Crisis, Sirius Black & James Potter Friendship, Sirius Black Has Issues, Smoking, Therapy, Truth, controversial opinions are a result of the circumstances, lying, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 05:56:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat__nevermind/pseuds/Cat__nevermind
Summary: He's nineteen and wonders if people can drown in rain.





	listing things that hurt (and things that don't)

_He’s nineteen and wonders if people can drown in rain._

  
_ Remus asked him once, why he started smoking. It had been shortly after the beginning of their sixth year at Hogwarts and Sirius, lonely and dramatic as any teenage boy could be, responded:_

  
_ “I needed to feel the damage somewhere other than just my head, to remind myself it’s real.”_

“They rejected me.”

  
Remus looks up from his newspaper, he’s sitting on the sofa in their small living room, legs pulled up and body curled into a ball of sweater and papers.  
Sirius, standing in the doorframe, rain dripping of his jacket, thinks that he is the only person in the world that can make disarranging his limbs look this comfortable.

  
“You’re dripping”, Remus says.

  
“It’s fucking pouring outside.”

  
He kicks his boots away and crawls out of the wet leather jacket, his hair is damp and cool, draped to his neck, out of the corner of his eyes he notices how the black curls are peppered with tiny drops, sparkling like little crystals.

  
In his head, there is a strong wind that blows every thought away as it appears and makes it impossible for him to form a coherent explanation of what happened. The irony, of course, is infelicitous but hysterical, nevertheless. This is why they turned me down, he thinks, starting to realise that they were probably right to do so. This is the exact reason why.

  
Remus moves over to put the newspaper away as Sirius places himself next to him. He wants to express some sort of emotion, but it gets stuck somewhere on the way, his body still feels confused, like it’s not entirely his own. Mildly intrigued by this new sentiment, he fears that it will just start acting on its own, without his mind’s consent. Luckily, all the years of hiding and controlling have paid off.

  
“So, you didn’t make it?”

  
Only Moony could make this question sound as crucial and still conversational as this. Sirius prepares letters in his head, pushes them until they align and then responds:

  
“I passed the tests with flying colours.”

  
Remus raises his brows.

  
“Yeah, it went great. But the hospital record blew my cover.”

  
“The mental institution?”, he asks quietly.

  
Sirius nods and stares at the unfolded paper on the floor, the desire to get up and put it together properly is overwhelming.

  
“Yes, the bloody psychiatry. It made them ask _questions_.”

  
They both know that asking Sirius Black questions is a hopeless venture. Answers, real answers would require him to expose his vulnerable side and Merlin, he can’t ever allow himself to do that.

  
Remus looks at him with open concern written all over his face, it still amazes Sirius how honest his boyfriend is, always sticking to what’s true. It’s what makes him the perfect liar. No one would dare to question his integrity, he’s so devoted to telling the truth, no one even bothers to dig deeper.  
No one tries to find the big horrible secret that surrounds the young Werewolf at all time.

  
Sirius prides himself in being an even better liar. Practice makes perfect and, on some days, he believes that he has never known anything but insincerity, his whole being is a creature based on and spun around lies, they grow inside of him as naturally as he breathes.

  
Some psychiatrist once diagnosed him as compulsive. He thinks that’s bullshit. If he were a compulsive liar, he’d also be untruthful about unnecessary things, inconveniences, simply because he couldn’t help himself. But Sirius crafts his lies willingly, mostly, and only when he can’t afford to be honest. Although, maybe, that’s what a compulsive liar would say as well.

  
“I wasn’t aware of how fucked up I apparently am.”

  
Remus places a warm hand on his knee, the touch is sudden and unexpected, he’s trying to console him without stating the obvious, without repeating the cliché. Sirius loves him for that.

  
James has gone through every single phase of cliché often enough for all of them, he screamed and begged and pleaded, comforted, promised, painted hope in a picture of a brighter future and the safety his sheer presence creates for Sirius.

  
But Remus has heard it all before too, has been treated like an experiment gone wrong, an inappropriately broken bone. He only says what he knows and believes to be true, and right now uncertainty is all they can rely on.

  
Still, Sirius doesn’t get tired of James clichés, because as helpless as he is, at least he cares. That outweighs his methods a thousand times.

  
“So, you’re not going to be an Auror, alright. I won’t either, neither will Pete or Lily. There are other ways to defy Voldemort”, Remus says.

“I know. I probably shouldn’t have tried in the first place; they wouldn’t let a Black fight Death Eaters.”

  
He laughs dryly and puts his face in his hands, his head is a Quidditch field and everything is passing too quickly, the audience is cheering too loudly.

  
“What kind of questions did they ask?”

  
It’s unusual for them to press each other and insist on a topic. They both have got a fair share of things they’d rather avoid talking about.

  
“Just some shitty questions about why I was there and all that stuff”, Sirius mumbles against his palms.

  
“What did you tell them?”

  
He can feel Remus watching him curiously, the Quidditch match in his head is over and an abrupt silence spreads over his thoughts.

  
“I said that looking at an overexaggerated mental record from four years ago was not going to help them determine whether they should accept me or not.”

  
He cringes and puts his hands down.

  
“Turns out, one of the things the therapist remarked on was my ‘denial’.”

  
Remus chuckles and shakes his head.

  
“What?”

  
“I mean, I get that you’re upset, and I really don’t want to accuse you of being unfit for fighting.”

  
“But?”

  
“Have you ever considered that the therapists were, at least partly, right?”

  
Sirius stares at him and blinks twice, taking the time to process the question before he replies with carefully put together words:

  
“You haven’t been to this place. It’s a scam. A bunch of pretentiously professional people pretending to understand ‘what you’ve been through’ and ‘how you feel’ only to judge you and put you in a box so they don’t have to concern themselves with you any longer.”

  
“But did you even give them a chance?”, Remus asks, only to answer his own question,

  
“Of course you didn’t, you don’t allow anyone in but James.”

  
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  
Suddenly he’s standing in the middle of the room, hands running through his hair, it’s still wet and smells of cigarettes.  
Remus has a stern expression on his face, the one he normally uses for telling bad news.

  
“I’m just trying to say that not even I know if their decision is reasonable or mainly due to political pressure.”

  
“What, so you’re jealous? Of James?!”

  
“I am not jealous, Sirius”, he says with a mixture of resoluteness and anger in his voice.

  
“Then what the fuck-“

  
“I’m just trying to say that you clearly have been through things that shaped you and that, honestly, you can’t deny those people fucked with your head. But you don’t deal with it, you just push it away and as a result you’re impulsive and cope by doing absolutely stupid things.”

  
For a moment they stare at each other while the silence spreads from Sirius’ brain into the room, crawls in every corner and clings onto their breath.

  
“Is this about The Incident?”, he asks quietly.

  
If there is one thing that still fucks their relationship, it’s The Incident, Sirius thinks. And that’s poorly put, since actually it’s the consequence of his terrible decision making that fucks them. Apart from the war and the ghosts in his head, this is the only thing that scares him nowadays. It may be the thing he is most afraid of. Because, yes, Remus forgave him, but they all know this has reached deep down to the fundament of their relationship and if they were going to fall apart, this would be the weight on the crack that would break them.

  
“No. Or maybe it is, a little, I’m not sure.”

  
He hesitates before he goes on.

  
“I’m not trying to unroll the past, Sirius. But I do believe that all of this is caused by something that makes you go crazy when it kicks in, I don’t know what it is but I’m sure you could work through it. If you were willing to.”

  
“Have you considered that I may just be a bad person? Like the rest of my fuckup family?”

  
“No.”

  
Remus gets up and grabs the newspaper, Sirius stares at the wall where he sat before and contemplates what this means for him. Irrationally, Remus still trusts him, despite what he did, in spite of the things his family did to his brain.

  
“I know you, Pads, you’re not a bad person.”

  
“I’m a liar”, he says, because he feels obligated to stress what Remus already knows.

  
“You’re wounded, but you’re not willing to tell me. And that’s okay, I guess. I just wish you would.”

  
Remus smiles and turns towards the door.

  
“I’m going to bed”, he announces.

  
Sirius doesn’t respond and then he’s gone, and the door falls shut.

_He’s eleven and the Sorting Hat shouts: “Gryffindor!”_

  
_ It feels like a personal insult to him, although he isn’t even very keen on getting into Slytherin, it’s just about the principle. Why let a stupid old hat decide for him?_  
_ And anyway, this whole thing feels unfair to him, what if people change, if their houses don’t fit them anymore? And what about the people that should know better than getting into a house that will only mean trouble for them?_

  
_ He can’t deny that he’s excited on some level, breaking the tradition, like he promised the boy on the train, (who gave him a no short of disgusted look when his full name had been read out loud), the problem is, he simply doesn’t feel brave. __If he were, he wouldn’t be this afraid, would he?_

  
_ Change is scary, and the transition from Grimmauldplace to the Gryffindor tower is like passing into another world. There’s colour, noise, laughter, an indescribable warmth that slowly finds its way to his core and melts away the icy memories of “home”._

  
_ After two weeks, the guilt and regret are erased, it’s alright, it’s close to fantastical. _

_Of course, with him, things never stay easy for long._

He spends the entire next day making lists. Some are reasons, other consequences, everything that could go wrong and everything that already did.  
Listing things in his head is one thing the people at the psychiatry told him to do, which he considered utterly useless, until the girl in the room next to his overdosed and he wondered if he would be next to go.

That, he never even mentioned to James it felt out of place in the real world, outside the hospital and as much as he would try, his best friend wouldn’t get it.  
None of them could, the wing at St Mungo’s, reserved for crazy kids and fuckups like him, was an entire ecosystem of its own and intruders were either eliminated or made into a part of the interior decoration.

  
The only reason he had survived the place without adjusting to the commonly known fact that he supposedly was a cold-blooded killer, was the thought of life after. Euphemia had promised, sworn to him that this was a temporary situation, only required to soothe the Ministry’s suspicions and that afterwards, he could come and stay with the Potters.

James had announced that if they only considered keeping him there for just a day longer, he’d break him out, never mind the aftermath.  
In exchange, Sirius had him swear that no one would know, not Remus or Peter or Evans, not anyone.  
Then he went to serve his three weeks of sentence and came back a little shaken, a little cracked but a free man. At least he thought so.

  
Now, he is sitting on the kitchen counter of the flat he shares with his boyfriend, a lit cigarette between his fingers, making list after list in his head, to figure out why he still isn’t.

  
He told Remus the winter after he ran away, expecting harsh judgement for lying and hiding, but all he got was honest concern and a hug that made him feel dizzy for several reasons, one of them being the fact that he suffered a concussion as the result of a particularly bad full moon.

  
Sirius adds this to the list of _A Million And One Reasons Why I Love Remus Lupin_ and thinks that he really does not deserve that man.

  
Said boyfriend comes home from his job at the library at seven pm and when he asks how his day was, Sirius doesn’t tell him how he spent most of it sitting and staring and contemplating, chain smoking, thinking, listing.

  
“Fine. What about yours?”, he says instead, which is only half a lie, it could have been worse, he had had days so much worse.

  
“Tiring”, Remus says with a smile, and drops down on his chair at the kitchen table.

  
Sirius makes them both a cup of tea, they sip it in unison silence. Finally, he remembers that he is a Gryffindor after all (and it’s good that he remembers, he thinks, since he could have spared himself a lot of trouble if he weren’t and it would have been a waste if he forgot now), and so he very courageously says:

  
“I thought about what you said.”

  
Remus looks at him mildly surprised at this revelation, because he’s Sirius and he’s a lost cause in terms of listening.

  
“You said that I’m not willing to tell you and I thought how absolutely stupid that was until I realised that it was possibly true nevertheless and that it’s scary as hell how you know my head better than I do sometimes.”

  
He thinks that he’s doing quite well, fumbles for words to express his decision.

  
“And what did you conclude?”, Remus asks and puts down his mug on the table, but keeps his hands curled around it to keep them warm. (Which is such a Remus thing to do and Sirius subconsciously adds to the list.)

  
“I’m having difficulties with telling the story”, he admits, reminding himself that Gryffindor not only stands for strength, but for bravery and sacrifice and that showing weakness, Merlin he is so scared of showing weakness, can be brave too.

  
“I told it once”, he says, “to Euphemia. After I ran away. James only knows what he knows because he was there and because of the two way mirror and the fact that he made me talk from time to time, he’s seen the evidence and he’s seen me at the bottom, that’s why he knows, but I never actually told him.”

  
“And are you going to tell me?”, Remus asks calmly, Sirius admires how put together he seems, how he isn’t pressing him.

  
“I want to.”

  
Spilling honesty is easier than he thought. It was unimaginable back when he was a teenager living among killers and psychopaths that told him they loved him while they beat him and assured him of their shared superiority when they locked him up and starved him for days.  
Weakness made things worse with them, they punished it mercilessly.

  
“I’m glad”, Remus says and for the first time since last night, his smile is somewhere close to happy.

  
“But it’s not easy”, Sirius warns him quickly, it feels like it would be unfair if he didn’t.

  
“I understand. Sirius, it’s still me you’re talking to, the two of us meet on the fucked-up-childhood-scale.”

  
“Yeah, I know.”

  
There’s a lot more he wants to say, he wants to assure Remus that this isn’t about him or their relationship or whatever the fuck it is with them, it isn’t because he doesn’t trust him or because he doesn’t want him to see his core. He stopped worrying about that years ago, learned to understand that his friends are on his side, no matter the darkness that’s still alive in his chest.

  
If anything, Remus is living proof of their unconditional and pretty fucking consequent devotion to one another. And right now, there are so many other things to be afraid of.  
But there are no words that would not make it sound pathetic and so incredibly sad, and therefore he keeps quiet. Remus gets up and walks over to him, his hands are still warm from the cup he held as he takes Sirius’ into his.

  
He leans in to kiss the other man, cautiously explores if they are able to be close despite the threatening cloud his decision has put above their heads. Sirius finds that apparently, they are, and it only makes sense, he thinks, they managed to fight through much bigger catastrophes.

_He’s thirteen and sitting in the hospital wing, waiting for Remus to wake up._

  
_ James and Peter have gone to breakfast to sneak something away for them and James even claimed, his father told him where to find the kitchens, so they want to explore that part of the castle on their way back. Naturally, only with the best of intentions, Remus is so going to want some tea._

  
_ Sirius is sleep deprived and worn out from an endless summer in a black hole and really not up for the James Potter sort of empathy. So, he fled with the excuse of “wanting to make sure he’d be there when Remus woke up, to remind him of the true beauty in life”._

  
_ Ironically, he thinks, the stinking hat was right all along. There is no other place for him than Gryffindor, even if he pays the price during the holidays._  
_ On the top shelf of his father’s library he found a book called “The Tactics and Terrors of Becoming an Animagus”. _

_He’s halfway through and thinks, he would gladly take the risk._

They make it to the bed in a blur of panting and tangled limbs, Remus’ hand clenches around his jaw and pulls him closer as he tries to manoeuvre through the door without hitting anyone’s skull against the frame.

  
It’s sultry, they’re moving too fast, clothes are ripped off and thrown away, skin brushes skin and Sirius wishes, prays, that this is how they’re going to be forever. Unstable maybe but reckless in love, hot breath against each other’s necks, fingers crawling to discover places, sensations, unknown but yet familiar.

  
Remus catches his bottom lip between his teeth, he groans, and it sends shivers all over Sirius’ body, his hands travel, searching for something to hold on to, before he is washed away by a riptide of emotion, sensory reception. He buries them in Remus’ hair, it’s soft and smells like the Forbidden Forest to him.

(Or maybe the forest smells like Remus and he’s got it all confused by now.)

  
In the dim light that falls in through the open window, his scars are surreal patterns of grey and silver linings, Sirius wants to trace them with his fingertips but he doesn’t want to remind Remus of them right now, doesn’t want to bring back the pain he carries beneath his skin.

  
Just for once, Sirius wants to do the right thing, do what doesn’t hurt.

  
Their bodies intertwined, they move closer, until the distance feels eliminated, it’s a rush and it’s inevitable, fireworks and running through the forest beneath the ever-watching moon, soothing their indefinite mortality in each other.

  
Two silhouettes in the darkness of a tiny London flat, an upcoming war above their heads, but in the dark, all their fears fade and melt into something more hopeful, less scratched. Something untouchable between them. It’s manifesting right there, upon their moaning and chuckles, it’s in the light of their eyes and it’s unstained, it’s great, it’s invincible.

  
Until it’s over, and it’s just two broken souls clinging onto a dream of what could have been, in a different world.

_He’s fifteen and crying on James’ bedroom floor, the scent of hospital still stains his skin and James’ hands on his shoulders have grown unfamiliar. He wants to scream but his voice is gone, crying is scary, he’s afraid he’ll choke on the bits of air he painfully inhales through pathetic sobs._

  
_ “Fuck, I never should have let them do this”, James mumbles and that catches his attention, gives him a reason to pull himself together._

  
_ “’s not your fault.”_

  
_ “But you’re _crying_.”_

  
_ James is panicking internally, Sirius feels how his thoughts are spinning, trying to come up with a perfect plan, the ultimate solution. He’s a chaser, after all, someone who takes action, finds solutions, fixes things, fixes people._

  
_ “Jamie, stop hyperventilating, please.”_

  
_ “I’m not. I’m just… swamped.”_

  
_ The tears are gone, and the muffled silence of the pleasant summer night reminds Sirius of other things, none hospital, none cage related things. The urge to move over to the window and breathe the clear, humid air is almost irresistible, he remembers he’s free now, finally, irrevocably free._

  
_ “Let’s go to the garden”, he says. It seems to take James by surprise, but he gets up and follows him downstairs without contradicting._

  
_ The Potters’ estate has always been one of Sirius’ favourite places on earth but tonight it feels more like home than ever before. They wait until they’re out of view from the kitchen window to light their cigarettes and sit down on the grass, the night sky is adorned with pieces of almost see-through clouds, but the stars still shine through._  
_ Sirius thinks, he’s at home wherever there are stars._

  
_ “Maybe they mutilated me”, he says after what could have been hours._

  
_ James turns his head to give him a horrified look, but Sirius keeps his eyes fixed on the sky._

  
_ “Mutilated?”_

  
_ “I thought about it for a long time. Every night I spent in that stupid loony bin and even before at Grimmauldplace.”_

  
_ He still feels James’ gaze on him and shifts uncomfortably at the task of stating his realisation._

  
_ “I think I’m unable to love people, James”, he finally says,_

  
_ “I mean, think about it, they never loved me, so I never learned, right? And how could I be able to do something no one ever taught me? It isn’t in my blood.”_

  
_ The last part he spits out bitterly. Then, he stubs out his cigarette, but keeps it in his hand so Euphemia won’t find it. She hates their smoking._

  
_ “You don’t learn love”, James responds carefully, “You find it.”_

  
_ “I’m not talking about platonic love, though. Not even I can deny that I somehow love you morons, I’m talking about this divine untouchable thing, love at first sight, the kind of love that makes you all stupid and cheesy.”_

  
_ He expected some kind of relief in sharing his fears with James but finds that saying it out loud only makes it weird, like the thoughts lost some of their truth when they crossed his lips. Still, he believes them._

  
_ “Padfoot, I’m not sure that’s how it works. I don’t know if love needs to be taught and I don’t know what happens to people when they aren’t, frankly, I’ve been lucky enough to enjoy a healthy, happy childhood… But I do know that it doesn’t matter, not to me at least.”_

  
_ James extinguishes his cigarette as well and lays his head back to give the night sky his own share of staring._

  
_ “Some people don’t experience romantic love, I think, just like others don’t feel sexual attraction. I don’t know why or how, but if you don’t fall in love with people, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re not a bad person, and, in case you haven’t noticed, you are loved. Can’t tell you about romance, but I wouldn’t be sticking around if I didn’t love you like the brother I never had. And Remus and Pete, my parents, they all care for you, deeply, despite your ability of making things extremely difficult.”_

  
_ There’s a long pause after that and Sirius struggles with understanding. He wants to tell James that he’s the only one he ever had, his family, real family._  
_ Instead he makes a list of people he would die for, right here, right now, since that’s the closet he’ll get to love tonight. It’s a count of four and he believes that to be acceptable._

  
_ “You’re an idiot”, he says, leaning against the other boy’s shoulder._

  
_ “Maybe, but so are you”, James replies with a smile._

  
_ And for about half a second, he believes, eventually, everything will turn out alright._

They talk over morning tea and a terrible excuse of an English breakfast. Sirius thinks he’ll never get used to the sacrifices Remus makes due to his lack of money. Back in the days, Euphemia always remarked on his own extraordinary talent for never feeling replete, but the truth, the well-hidden truth, is that he simply adapted to the circumstances. If food is scarce, you’ll take all you can get.

  
Not today though, he wouldn’t find the meal appealing either way and the topic of conversation finishes off every bit of appetite he had to offer.  
He remembers what telling James’ mum had felt like, stinging and exhausting, deprived of the tears that he maybe should have cried but which would have felt wasted on_ them_. After all, his education demanded keeping a certain degree of emotional distance.

  
(It had been James who hammered vulnerability into him, like a mantra in his head he can still hear him say: “_You’re A Shit Kind Of Person If You Don’t Allow Yourself To Feel!_”, and somewhere along the way, Sirius had started to believe him.)

  
Remus is the type of person that is actually able to listen, and he thinks that he has never been more thankful for the fact that his boyfriend is so much more considerate than he would be. He doesn’t interrupt him, doesn’t ask awkward questions. He allows him to skip the parts he isn’t ready to share and when he’s finished, his eyes carefully lead him back to reality.

  
The kitchen smells of eggs and bacon and the busy noise of the Muggle street outside the house offers comfort, Sirius didn’t know he was seeking.

  
“You know”, Remus says after a long while, “I feel quite stupid.”#

  
“Why?”

  
Sirius ultimately takes a sip of tea out of formality.

  
“I never asked.”

  
He leans back in his chair and starts to drum his fingers on the table obliviously, it’s what he does when he’s nervous and displeased, and Sirius is listing, always listing.

  
“Of course I had my bloody suspicions, but I never asked, not even after you ran away. It didn’t even occur to me.”

  
In some fucked up way, Sirius finds this adorable and he shrugs and snorts:

  
“I wouldn’t have answered.”

  
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Still a shite excuse. And after you went to live with James all I thought was ‘perfect, now he’s safe and we don’t need to worry”, I was somehow relieved I wasn’t obligated to ask, you know.”

  
“So was I, trust me.”

  
“But that’s the point”, Remus exclaims with sudden anger in his voice,  
“I still should have, but I considered James to be more fit to break through to you, when I, _especially_ I was the one that owed it, after all you three did for me and my fucking demons.”

  
“Don’t worry, I erased that debt, didn’t I?”

  
It’s a self-destructive tendency that makes him bring up The Incident right now, twice in two days is a record, usually they ship around that topic whenever conversation seems to lead them towards it. This, however, is a Titanic-situation.

  
“That’s not how it works”, Remus says hesitantly, but Sirius notices the doubt that resonates within his words.

  
“Isn’t it? Alright, then tell me why you should have owed me anything in the first place.”

  
He sounds more cynical than he anticipated. Remus looks at him and slowly folds his hands in his lap, takes the time to think, while Sirius uses it to add to his lists.

  
“Fine. You’re right. But that doesn’t make it okay, even if I didn’t owe you anything, you were my friend, you still are, my boyfriend even. I told you I loved you, but I never asked, not until two days ago.”

  
“And I never told you.”

  
Someone outside is shouting, a child’s laughter travels up to the kitchen window. He wonders if they know, the Muggles, if they can feel the approaching danger, the threat within every ‘natural disaster’, ‘accident’, ‘disappearance’. Don’t they sense the upcoming catastrophe, he asks himself.

  
It’s hard to miss when the world is getting darker, monsters in dark alleys at night that leave trails of blood for the sunlight to discover, shadows of irrational fear that travel like clouds, people vanishing without explanation, mass murderers in the morning news. Voldemort rising.

  
But Muggles are slow-witted, he hates agreeing with his mother’s tirades, but they really do not seem to detect the meaning behind all the miraculous happenings. Maybe that’s a good thing, he thinks, they may be in danger but as long as they don’t know what’s coming for them, they will remain in peace for the time they have left.  
Perhaps they’re lucky. They have people who will fight the battle for them.

  
“Do you think they ever loved you?”, Remus asks quietly and without looking, his eyes are fixed on the crumbs on his plate. And Sirius gets why he asks, not to be hurtful, he never would, but to be sure what to feel. He’s always scared of misjudging people.

  
“I think in their own way, they did. In the beginning. But I also think they aren’t really capable of love; not like you are or James.”

  
And this is where it gets serious, this is the bottom of his soul and his words feel deficient, compared to what he is trying to say.  
“I guess that would make it easier”, Remus says, nods and gets up. There’s a stain of something on his shirt and Sirius catches his thoughts vaguely wandering off to a scenario in which he gets up too and takes it off of him, but he doesn’t.

He just stares instead and regrets a wasted opportunity.

_He’s seventeen and on the edge of insanity._

  
_ There are three things that keep him grounded, his cigarettes, the full moon nights and James._

  
_ The first he’s been consuming excessively, against all common sense, the second he pretends not to enjoy too much, because of what they mean for Moony and the latter has been hard to catch, since he’s been running after his own addictions, most of them being, of course, Lily Evans._

  
_ It’s a short list of things to hold on to, but Sirius only trusts himself with so much. Everything else is slipping out of his hands and he doesn’t know how much more he can bear to lose._

  
_ It’s almost funny, how he forced himself to live with what he thought to be true, spent years accepting his “deficiency” as something natural, a part of him. Only for Remus to come along and blow it all apart. __He gets it now, there are people who love, people who fuck, those who do neither and the majority that does both. In a fit of pubescent, traumatised panic, he diagnosed himself as belonging to the second category, slowly acknowledged it, understood that it didn’t define him positively or negatively, it simply was him._

  
_ But just when he felt like he could live with it, even regarding it as a consequence of his upbringing, something inside of him shifted and suddenly, he found himself helplessly falling in love._

  
_ So what, he thinks, I was wrong, got things mixed up, it’s no big deal. __Only it is, his grasp on reality is affected, he’s stumbling, searching for an answer. What if everything that’s real now won’t be real tomorrow, he thinks, and what if I never find out who I am, only lose myself in a net of hypothesis and unproven theories?_

  
_ So, loving Remus, (and he assumes he is loving, he can’t say he understands but it just feels like it is), goes against everything he made himself believe. It also strongly contradicts all of his parents’ values of marriage and sex, they would be furious if they knew. A gay son is maybe even worse than a Squib child. Except that said gay son is already marked a blood traitor, burned off the tapestry, banished and disowned, so he guesses it wouldn’t be too much of a shock for them._

  
_ And that’s where the other thing that fucked his stability arises from: The family, always the bloody family._

  
_ Regulus is sixteen and joining the dark side._

  
_ It’s what he doesn’t get, how anyone could live in this house, this place, the origin of all his horrors, live there with the people that made him a basket case and still join their side._

  
_ And he knows, he knows his brother isn’t a bad person, he’s sensitive, compassionate, always more invested in the bloody house-elf’s happiness than his own wellbeing. Sirius wishes he could shake him awake, reach out for him and pull him back to safety. __But he knows he lost that privilege when he left, and Regulus is never going to forgive him._

  
_ One night, Remus finds him on top of the Astronomy tower, shrouded in smoke, pondering beneath his namesake. He sits down next to him and doesn’t speak, waits for Sirius to address him._

  
_ Sirius knows that he’s petty enough to do this in defiance of him keeping his distance since the beginning of the year and quietly admits his defeat. Not even he is bold enough to ignore a pissed off Remus Lupin, especially this close to the full moon._

  
_ “I appreciate the irony”, he says after a while,_

  
_ “Up there, they’re never changing, stuck in their cycles forever. And down here, we’re drifting apart.”_

  
_ Remus follows his gaze and inspects the constellations that include Sirius and Regulus, before asking:_

  
_ “Are you trying to make me feel sorry for you?”_

  
_ Sirius shrugs and doesn’t look at him. He thinks that perhaps they are also trapped in a never-ending cycle and not that different from the stars. And maybe he is aiming for pity after all._

  
_ “You’re mad”, he observes stupidly._

  
_ At this, Remus snorts untypically and subconsciously clenches his fists._

  
_ “I’m hurt. You’re pushing me away.”_

  
_ “I’m a lunatic, maybe.”_

  
_ “Stop exaggerating.”_

  
_ Sirius chuckles under his breath and finally turns to face him, in the dark he looks scary, with his brows furrowed and the sparkling hazel eyes._

  
_ “I can’t explain.”_

  
_ “Yes, you can. You don’t want to because it’s easier that way.”_

  
_ Instinctively, he wants to disagree, pretend that he’s doing the brave and noble thing, not being a coward. But Remus is not a big fan of blatant lies and Sirius is tired._

  
_ “I got used to running away”, he says instead._

  
_ And oh, if Regulus could see me now, he thinks. He’d be thrilled to know that no one ever escapes the family and, in the end, they’re not different at all._

  
_ “Then stop.”_

  
_ Remus looks like he’s about to explode. Then again, that’s just what they’ve been waiting for, he realises and so, he lets him._

  
_ “I’m not buying any of this. You’re a selfish bastard if you try to talk to me about running away from things and carrying the pain inside of you, for fucks sake. I don’t even know why I’m coming after you, I should have had enough. But, Merlin, you’re so…”_

  
_ “…irresistible?”_

  
_ “Self-absorbed. I was trying to go with ‘hard to let go’.”_

  
_ “I’m pretty when I hurt.”_

  
_ “On the outside maybe, but you act as ugly as anyone could. A hurt Sirius Black is like a blackhole, a chain of cause and effect. You lure people in and hurt them even more to prove to yourself that you’re not the only one who’s miserable.”_

  
_ Sirius whistles quietly. There’s truth in what he says, with Remus, there always is._

  
_ “You can be a perfectly mean dick”, he says._

  
_ “Imagine what being around you can be like.”_

  
_ “The blackhole thing ‘s quite impressive. Hinting at the ‘black’ part and all.”_

  
_ “You’re still distracting from the topic at hand.”_

  
_ Slowly, Sirius leans back against the wall and fumbles for another cigarette. He thinks that making Remus hate him is the most ambitious thing he’s ever accomplished and much more than just lashing out because of his misery._

  
_ “For someone as brilliant as you, I thought this wouldn’t be so hard to uncover.”_

  
_ “I’m not the one considered a genius; I work for my grades.”_

  
_ “That’s humble of you. We both know you’re cleverer than the rest of us.”_

  
_ On another day, Remus would be blushing uncomfortably at anyone complementing him, but not tonight, no. All Sirius gets for his effort is another snort._

  
_ “Look, I’m having a little identity-crisis. Not even trying to be gloomy, I just am.”_

  
_ “Alright, then talk to me. From one sad person to another. Stop pretending you’re alone when you bloody well know you’re not.”_

  
_ Vaguely, Sirius realises what Remus is doing, pushing his buttons, getting him to open up. In some creepy way he’s even better at it than James, but he recognises the same motivation behind it. Concern. And that’s disappointing, really._

  
_ “My little brother got a tattoo.”_

_ “Shocking, but really not what we’re going to chat about now.”_

  
_ “Oh, but it is. You know, it’s that special kind of tattoo, the Death Eater thing.”_

  
_ To Sirius’ satisfaction this seems to get to Remus, at least draws a little surprised sound out of him._

  
_ “Well fuck.”_

  
_ “Precisely what I’m thinking. But I guess we all knew it was only a matter of time.”_

  
_ “But he’s so smart”, Remus says sceptically, “why would he?”_

  
_ “Manipulation? Blackmail? Persuasion? Brainwashing? You decide, my mother’s an expert at all of these disciplines.”_

  
_ He finishes his cigarette and looks at Remus on the floor next to him, they haven’t been this close in such a long time and in the back of his head he’s getting ideas. Longings._  
_ And it is a pity, driving away the one decent person he knows that understands him on a level, no one else could. It’s frustrating and definitely not the easy way out, but he can’t help himself._

  
_ Because Remus is right, he is a blackhole and to shelter him from the inevitable destruction that always resolves around him, he needs Remus as far away as possible._

  
_ “So, what is it that really drove you up here?”, he asks, and he doesn’t sound angry anymore, almost friendly._

  
_ “Isn’t it obvious?”, Sirius sighs._

  
_ “Not to me, no.”_

  
_ “I’m falling in love.”_

  
_ There’s a moment of silence in which he’s scared to turn to Remus, afraid of what his expression would tell him._

  
_ “So?”_

  
_ “Well, you said it yourself, I’m destructive.”_

  
_ Again, silence. Then, in an outburst of emotion Sirius really didn’t anticipate, Remus shouts: "__You know what? Fuck you. You feel so sorry for yourself and I can’t stand it. You know I didn’t mean it like this, bloody hell. You’re so ridiculously dense sometimes and it’s not fucking funny.”_

  
_ “But I fucked up before and I hurt you so bad. I’m impulsive, it’s not safe and I really, really can’t hurt you again.”_

  
_ Now, Sirius expects him to fight back, the wolf is too close to the surface tonight for him to swallow all the built-up anger. And again, Remus surprises him._

  
_ “What did you just say?”, he whispers._

  
_ Finally, he manages to catch his eye, they seem to have moved closer together, it’s almost unbearable._

  
_ “I said that I couldn’t hurt you again, so, I’m trying to stay away. Though it looks like I’m doing a terrible job.”_

  
_ “But… Me?”_

  
_ “Who else? Fucking Peter?”_

  
_ The thought is so absurd that he nearly cracks a smile._

  
_ “Sirius Black, for once in your life, tell the truth and be fucking clear about it. Are you saying that you’re in love with me?”_

  
_ Remus voice is shivering, Sirius suddenly remembers all the things that could go wrong, the reasons he wanted to keep it to himself in the first place. What if Remus is disgusted? What if he actually, really starts to hate him?_

  
_ “Yes.”_

  
_ “Fuck.”_

  
_ “It’s okay, I’m not going to touch you, don’t worry, I’m –“_

  
_ “You bloody idiot”, Remus says._

  
_ And then, he kisses him on the lips, like it’s nothing. Like loving is as easy and as effortless as running and as fond as a butterfly wing. Like they are the stars and moving within their cycles, like they were destined to collide._

  
_ In the morning, Sirius finds the letter that tells him Euphemia and Fleamont Potter are dead._

“Thought about applying for a job?”, Remus casually asks over his newspaper, "Someone's looking for a gardener and an old lady claims she needs a personal caretaker.”

  
Sirius drops on the sofa and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

  
“I’m pretty sure I don’t qualify for either. Besides, what would Mother say if a member of the Noble And Most Ancient House Of Black was mowing someone’s lawn?”

  
“Since when do you concern yourself with that?”

  
“I don’t. Thinking about it, maybe I should do it, out of spite.”

  
Remus gives him a sceptical look and he takes a moment to contemplate why he’s fussing over the fucking job, only to realise that of course he’s fussing, Sirius is just spoiled and lazy and is surely going to crash hard in the real world.

  
“By the way, James said he’d drop by later. Said he had news.”

  
“I hope it’s not the James Potter kind of news”, Sirius yawns and pulls his legs up to rest them on Remus’ lap.

  
“Remember when he ordered us to get to his place immediately, only to tell us that there was a cute dog that looked exactly like me?”

  
“As I recall it, I was the one pissed off about it, whereas you found it absolutely outrageous that this random stray looked so similar. I think you said, ‘this is an emergency, Moony, my uniqueness is threatened’.”

  
“Okay, but it was. That dog was an imposter.”

  
“You’re hopeless.”

  
“I love you too.”

  
There’s an urgent knock at the apartment door and Remus shoves Sirius’ away to attend to it. Judging by the excessive amount of repetitions of the knocking, he is sure it must be James. It takes him about two seconds to walk into the room, locate Sirius on the sofa and announce, somewhere in between shock and utter amazement:

“She said yes.”

  
Remus, who followed him, goes pale and then grins widely.

  
“You proposed?”, Sirius asks in disbelieve.

  
“I did.”

  
James sounds just as surprised.

  
“Well, congratulations”, Remus says, and Sirius jumps up to pull both of them into a bone-crushing hug. James, caught up somewhere between the others’ arms and bodies, seems close to breaking into tears.

  
“Fuck, I think I just lost about forty-seven bets”, Sirius laughs, “But holy shit, James Potter actually engaged to Lily Evans, I think no one saw that one coming.”

  
“You’ll be my best man, right?”, James asks pressingly.

  
“Of course I will. Wouldn’t let anyone take that opportunity away from me. The speech is going to be absolutely glorious.”

  
“I’m so glad you two found each other”, Remus says. Sirius smiles because he can be just as cheesy as James when he wants to be, and it is the sweetest thing ever.

  
“There’s something else, though”, James says when they’re all settled with a cup of tea at the kitchen table. He suddenly has a different kind of excitement in his voice and Sirius thinks he knows what’s coming.

  
“Dumbledore visited. Had a long talk about morality and I think at some point he referred to the cat as ‘wiser than he lets on’ which I found incredibly confusing, but the point is, he talked about an alliance. He called it ‘the Order of the Phoenix’. I think he’s going to chat you up individually too, but I couldn’t wait. This is our chance.”

  
And he gives them both a significant stare, the famous look of something building up, a plan, a game changing decision.

  
“It’s our chance to fight Voldemort”, he says.

  
Sirius glances at Remus and catches his eye. Naturally, he’s worried but there’s something else Sirius finds, and it gives him an unexpected rush of adrenaline.

  
Hope.

_He’s twenty-one and the list of people he would die for has increased to six. He’s never felt more vulnerable._

  
_ There’s a decision he has to make, but his head is anything but clear and things are so complicated nowadays. The untouchable truth they all relied on for years, that they would take care of each other, stick together, has been shaken. He’s absolutely going paranoid._

  
_ There’s a spy in the Order, a traitor within his friends, someone who’s killing them from the inside. And Sirius is sure it can’t be Remus, there is just no way, he couldn’t possibly. But something about him has been different lately, he leaves without telling, doesn’t say where he’s going and comes back too late, smelling of strange things Sirius can’t identify._

  
_ And he’s lying. Honest, truth-bound Remus is lying, and he can’t figure out why._

  
_ Either he’s cheating on him or all of them. Sadly, Sirius is sure that there’s barely anything keeping the two of them together now, so if he found someone else, why wouldn’t he just leave?_

  
_ In times like these, it’s always the hardest thing to imagine that’s closest to reality._

  
_ Still, he’s resisting, with all he has to offer, because he doesn’t want to be betrayed by the man he loves and he doesn’t want to do the things that hurt and, worst of all, he still doesn’t want Remus to hurt._

  
_ But his bloody suspicions are inescapable._

  
_ His list is incorrect anyways. Regulus is missing, probably dead already, so dying for him would be utterly useless. And Remus seems to be just as off track now. Then there’s Peter who’s just the same old he’s always been. And Lily and James and the baby and Sirius knows, there is nothing he wouldn’t do to keep them safe._

  
_ There really is only one option left._

  
_ Protecting the Potters, he would do it, always has, no doubt. But it’s too fucking obvious, too easy to detect. So, Sirius makes his choice._

  
_ “Let’s make Peter the Secret Keeper”, he proposes._

(It’s only later that he realises he was never meant to be a free man after all.)

**Author's Note:**

> The opinions expressed on mental health, therapy and sexuality are all the characters’ and a result of their special situation and not supposed to be hurtful. 
> 
> Furthermore, I'd like to give credits to TheDivineComedian because their works inspired me. Please go and read them, they're honestly incredible. (Especially the "leave no stone unturned" series.)
> 
> If you enjoyed the story, I'd be happy to read your thoughts on it in the comments or if you just left kudos. :)  
Thank you so much!


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